The Infidel; or, the Fall of Mexico. Vol. I.

Then, making a signal to those who remained, to lead the captive after him, he passed into the garden, and thence, by a private entrance, into the hall of audience.

CHAPTER XIII

It has been already mentioned, that the person of Guatimozin was familiar to few, or none, of the Spaniards. Intensely and consistently hostile to the invaders, from the first moment of their appearance in the Valley, he had ever kept aloof from them, and was one of the few princes of Mexico, whom neither force nor stratagem could reduce to thraldom. His youth, indeed, – his want of authority, (for though of the loftiest birth and the highest military fame, he enjoyed, at first, no independent command or government,) and, hence, his apparent insignificance, – had made the possession of his person of no great consequence; and it was not until he was seen leading the incensed citizens up against the guns of the garrison, and directing the assault which terminated in the life of Montezuma, that he began to be considered an enemy worthy to be feared. Even then, however, he was but one among the warlike followers of Cuitlahuatzin, – the successor of Montezuma, – and on the famous battle-field of Otumba, he fought only as a second in command. But from that time until the present moment, his name was constantly before the Spaniards, first as the king of Iztapalapan, then as a leader among those royal warriors, sent forth by Cuitlahuatzin, now to annoy the Spaniards, even among their fortresses on the borders of Tlascala, and now to chastise those rebellious tribes which were daily acknowledging allegiance to the Spaniard, and preparing to march with him against Tenochtitlan.

The death of Cuitlahuatzin had suddenly exposed him to view as the probable successor to the imperial dignity; and the act of the royal electors, (the kings of Mexico were chosen by the crowned vassals of the empire,) in bestowing the mantle and sceptre, had left nothing to be done to confirm his authority, save a solemn inauguration on the day of an august religious and national festival.

He had thus assumed the attitude which Montezuma had once preserved in the eyes of the Conquistador; and it was as much the policy of Cortes to attempt the acts of delusion with him, as it had been with his predecessor. The craftier and haughtier Guatimozin had, however, rejected his overtures with disdain; and, justly appreciating the character and designs of his enemy, he prepared for war as the only alternative of slavery. He had already concentrated in his city, and in the neighbouring towns, the whole martial force of the tribes yet valiant and faithful; he had laboured, with an address that was not always ineffectual, to regain the false and rebellious; and, rising above the weakness of national resentments, he had even striven to unite his hereditary foes in a league of resistance against the stranger, who, whether frowning or smiling, whether courting with friendship, or subduing with arms, was yet, and equally, the enemy of all.

Enough has been said to explain the purpose for which he so rashly threw himself into the power of the Conqueror. The certain assurance of disaffection in the invader's camp, not only among the allies, but among the Spaniards themselves, was enough to fire his heart with the desire of employing against Don Hernan a weapon which his foe had used so fatally against him; and, besides, the opportunity of detaching the Tlascalans from the Spanish interest, was too captivating to be rejected. These were advantages to be investigated and promoted by himself, rather than by agents; and, confiding in his enemies' ignorance of his person, in his cunning, and in the interested fidelity of traitors, who had already grasped at bribes, and were eager to be better acquainted with his bounty, he did not scruple to direct his midnight skiff among the reeds on the lakeside, and, in the guise of a mere noble, trust himself alone in their power.

If the reader desire to know what could induce any of the followers of Cortes to treat thus perfidiously with the infidel enemy whose wealth was promised as the certain guerdon of war, he may be answered almost in a word. The dangers of the war were manifold and obvious to all, and the horrors of the five days' battles in the streets of Mexico, and more than all, the calamities of the midnight retreat, had given such a foretaste of what might be expected from a prosecution of the campaign, that full half the army looked forward to it with equal terror and repugnance. A majority of those who survived the Noche Triste, were followers of the unfortunate Narvaez, and some of them yet friendly to the deceived Velasquez. They remained with Cortes upon compulsion, and they hated him not only for their inability to return to their peaceable farms among the islands, for past calamities, and coming misfortunes, but for the superior favours showered so liberally, and indeed so naturally, upon those who had been his original, and were yet his faithful, adherents. In a word, they regarded the reduction of the Mexican empire as hopeless, and their own fate, if they remained, as already written in characters of blood. The bolder scowled and complained, the feeble and the crafty dissembled, but evil thoughts and fierce resolutions were common to all. They burned to be released from what was to them intolerable bondage, and the means were not to be questioned, even though they might involve connivance and collusion with the foe. But such collusion was by no means known, nor even suspected, by any save the few desperadoes who had risen to the bad eminence of leaders. Even Villafana was ignorant of the true character of his guest, and esteemed him to be only what he represented himself, – Olin, the young noble, an orator, counsellor, and confidential agent of Guatimozin. It was not possible for the Captain-General to regard him in any other light.

Whatever may have been the young monarch's thoughts, his secret misgivings and self-reproaches, as he strode, closely environed by cavaliers, into the great hall, now dimly lighted by tapers of vegetable wax and torches of fragrant wood, they were exposed by no agitation of countenance or hesitation of step; and when Cortes ascended the platform to his seat, and turned his penetrating eye upon him, he preserved an air of the most fearless tranquillity. For the space of several moments, the general regarded him in silence; then commanding all to leave the apartment, excepting Sandoval, Alvarado, and another cavalier who officiated as interpreter, he said to Alvarado, with a mild voice, very strangely contrasted with the rudeness of his words,

"Look into the face of this heathen dog, and tell me if thou knowest him."

Alvarado had been, as the historical reader is aware, left in Mexico, the jailer of Montezuma and the warden of the city, during the absence of Cortes, when he marched against Narvaez. It was supposed, therefore, that Don Pedro was better acquainted with the persons of the principal nobles than any other cavalier. He examined the captive curiously, and at last said, shaking his head,

"Methinks his visage is not unknown; and yet I wot not to whom it belongs. The knave is but a boy. If he be a noble, never trust me but he is one of Guatimozin's making, and therefore not yet of consequence."

At the sound of his own name, the only word distinguishable by the prisoner, Alvarado observed that his brow contracted a little. But this awoke no suspicion.

"Demand of him," said Cortes to the interpreter, "his name, and the purpose of his coming to Tezcuco?"

When this was explained to the Mexican, his brow contracted still further, but rather with inquisitiveness than embarrassment:

"I am Olin-pilli," (that is, Olin the Lord, or Lord Olin,) he replied, "the speaker of wise things to the king, and the mouth of nobles."

He then paused, as if to examine with what degree of belief he was listened to; and being satisfied, from the countenance of Don Hernan, that he was really unknown, he continued, with a more confident tone,

"And I come to the Lord of the East, the Son of the God of Air, to hear the words of his children. Did not the Teuctli send for me?"

"Not I," replied the Captain-General, sternly. "Speaker of wise things, I look into thy heart, and I see thy falsehood. Thou art a spy, – a quimichin, – sent by Guatimozin the king, to speak dark things to the men of Tlascala."

The captive, though somewhat disconcerted, maintained a fearless countenance:

"The Teuctli is the son of the gods, and knows everything," he answered.

"And charged also," continued Cortes, "to whisper in the ears of fools, who send good words to the king, that the king may enrich them with gold. Is not this true, Sir Quimichin?"

"Is not Malintzin the Son of Quetzalcoatl, the White God with a beard, who proclaimed from the Hill of Shouting[10 - Tzatzitepec, a mountain near Tula.] and from the Speaking Mountain,[11 - Catcitepetl, a volcano.] the coming of his offspring? and shall Olin know more things than Malintzin? Guatimozin thinks, that the Spaniard should not slay his people."

"Wherefore, then, sent he not thee to me?" demanded the Captain-General. "I will listen to his words. It was not wise to send his ambassador to the soldier, when the general sat by, in his tent. – Hearken to me, friend Olin," he continued, with gravity: "Hadst thou brought his discourse to me, thou hadst then been listened to with honour, and dismissed in peace. Art thou a soldier?"

"Olin is a counsellor," replied the Mexican, proudly; "but he has bled in battle."

"And is not Guatimozin a warrior?"

"He is the king of the House of Darts, and he has struck his foe."

"When the lurking Ottomi is found skulking in his camp; when the angry Tlascalan creeps up to his fort; what does Guatimozin then with the prisoner? what says he to the Ottomi? what wills he with the Tlascalan?"

"He binds them to the stone, and they die like the dogs of the altar!" replied the barbarian, with a fierce utterance.

"Thou hast spoken thine own doom," replied Cortes, sternly; "only that, instead of perishing according to thy damnable customs, a sacrifice to spirits accurst, thou shalt have such death as we give to the dogs of Castile. Thou hast crept into my camp, like the spying Ottomi; thou comest with sword and shield, like the bravo of Tlascala; and thou hast addressed thyself to traitors and conspirators, to make them mine enemies. Why then should I not hang thee upon a tree? or why," he continued, with an elevated voice, descending from the platform, and, with a single motion, unsheathing his rapier and aiming it against the captive's breast – "why should I not kill thee, thou cur! upon the spot?"

"I am a Mexican!" replied the young king, rather opposing his body to the expected thrust than seeking to avoid it; "I look upon my death, and I spit upon thee, Spaniard!"

"Hah!" cried Cortes, whose desire was to intimidate, not to slay, and who could not but admire the fearless air of defiance, so boldly assumed by the captive, "thou hast either a true heart, or a penetrating eye. – Fear not; thy life is in my hands, but I design thee no wrong: death were but a just punishment for thy villany, yet I mean not to enforce it. What wilt thou do, if I discharge thee unharmed?"

"I will know," said the barbarian, with a look of surprise, as soon as this was interpreted, "that Malintzin is not always hungry for blood; or rather, I will ask of my thoughts, what mischief to Mexico is meditated in the act of mercy."

"A shrewd knave, i'faith, a shrewd knave!" cried Cortes, admiringly: "by my conscience, this fellow hath somewhat the wit of a Christian politician. – Infidel," he continued, "hearken to what I say. I desire to speak the words of peace with my young brother Guatimozin. Wherefore will he not listen to me?"

"Because his ears are open to the groans of his children," replied the Mexican, promptly. "When Malintzin smiles, the brand hisses on the flesh of the prisoner; when he talks of peace, the great warhorse paws the breast of the dead. Let this thing be not, let his insurgent subjects be sent to their villages, and Guatimozin will listen to the Teuctli."

"He has slain my ambassadors," said Cortes.

"Shall the slave say to his master, 'I am the bondman of another,' and laugh in the king's face? Let Malintzin send a Christian to Guatimozin. I will row him in my skiff, and he shall return unharmed."

"What thinkest thou of this? I will send him such an envoy, and thou shalt remain a hostage in his place. What will be said to him by the king of Mexico?"

"This," replied the captive, without a moment's hesitation: "The Christian is in Mexico, and Olin-pilli in the prisons of Malintzin: let the Christian therefore die."

"Ay, by my conscience, he speaks well," said Cortes. "But were friendship offered, and twenty thousand hostages left behind, I should like to know what Spaniard of us all would perform the pilgrimage? There is but one. – But that is naught. By heaven and St. John, we will think of other things! we will think of other things! – Is it not death by the decree?"

"Señor!" cried Alvarado in surprise. Cortes started. – In the moment of entranced thought, he had stridden away from the group to some distance, and, he now perceived, they were gazing at him with wonder.

"We will entrust this thing to him, then, as I said," he cried, hurriedly, "and he shall return with the misbeliever's answer. We have no other choice. What think ye of it, my masters?"

"Of what?" said Alvarado, bluntly: "You have said nothing. By'r lady, and with reverence to your excellency, you are dreaming!"

"Pho!" cried the Captain-General, "did I not speak it? Our thoughts sometimes sound in our ears, like words. This is the philosophy of the marvel: Hast thou never, when thine eyes were shut, yet beheld in them the objects of which thou wert thinking? If thou couldst think music, never believe me but thou wouldst also hear it. – This, then, is the thought which I forgot to utter: I will give this dog his freedom, and, for lack of a better, make him my envoy to Guatimozin. If he return, it will be well; if not, we are left where we were; and we can hang him hereafter."

"Let us first know," said Sandoval, coolly, "by what sort of charm he prevailed on this mad young man, Juan Lerma, to peril limb and life for him, and, what is more, honour too."

"Ay, by my conscience!" said Cortes, hurriedly; "this thing I had forgotten. – He shall die the death! Connive with a spy? conceal him from the pursuers? draw sword upon a cavalier? strike at an officer's life? Were he mine own brother, he should abide his doom. Who will say I wrong him now? – Hah! what says the dog? How came this thing to pass?"

While Cortes was yet pursuing the subject nearest to his heart, half soliloquizing, the question was asked and answered; and the reply, to Guatimozin's great relief, was received with unexpected belief.

"He was caught by the bloodhound; (An excellent dog, that Befo!)" said Alvarado; "and making his moan to Lerma, (whom heaven take to its rest! for I know not how he can be so brave, and yet an ass,) the young fool fell to his old tricks. When did an Indian ever ask him for pity in vain? – This is his story; it is too natural to be false; yet, Indians are great liars. – But you said something of making this cur your envoy?"

"Ay," replied Cortes: "What sayst thou, Olin, speaker of wise things! wilt thou bear my thoughts to thy master Guatimozin?"

"The lord of Tenochtitlan shall hear them," said Guatimozin, his eyes gleaming with expectation.

"And thou wilt return to me with his answer? Swear this upon the cross of my sword; ay, and swear it by thy diabolical gods also."